


Anything to Give Up the Ghost

by bookspark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Evil James, Gen, Grief/Mourning, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Possession, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, no one had a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8033380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookspark/pseuds/bookspark
Summary: When James meets his new friend Tom in the Forbidden Forest he has no idea how much the silvery boy will change his life.





	1. Chapter 1

_James is three when he finds Tom._

He has come with his Da to visit the big castle and has grown bored with holding onto Da’s hand. Slowly he waits while Da is talking with a man covered in dirt – it would be fun to be covered it dirt too! – his Da relaxes his hold on him and he slowly pulls his hand away from his Da’s. Keeping his eyes on the talking parents (because everyone is a parent, right?), James backs away until he’s behind the big glass house and then runs for the trees nearby. 

Oh! What fun! He’s going to play in the dirt and look for worms and bugs and maybe find a mouse or something! He reaches the edge of the trees and keeps going. His Da is going to have to play hide-and-seek to find him. This will be loads of fun! 

So much more fun than playing with the Al. He has to be careful when playing with the Al. No running, or jumping, no screaming, no playing with his Nimbus 3000½ because the Al is too tiny. It’s too tiny to play with the colours Grandmum bought him: the Al tries to eat them instead and Mum got mad at James because of it! No one saw that the Al had ruined his colours… The Al stinks and cries a lot, and everyone think the Al is the best toy to play with, more fun than James.

Here he can run and hide and look at the fuzzy green thing that’s crawling on the ground… Oh! It stings, don’t touch it. He walks around the fuzzy thing and then crouches down. He’s found paw prints! They look like the prints Snuffles makes when it’s been raining and Mum won’t let him inside because he’s covered in mud… James decided that instead of _finding_ the dog, he will find where the dog came _from_.

He turns around and around, looking for more paw prints and claps hands over his mouth to keep a squeal in. This is such a good idea! He doesn’t want Da to come and find him. He sees where the dog _went_ and turns around to see where the dog came _from_. He pulls apart the purple leaves, his eyes locked on the backward paw prints and giggles. Oh! He’s so smart! Who would think of finding where the dog came from?! James grins and wiggles, oh Da will be so proud! He will see how much better his Jamie is then the Al. He can look and find things, and all the Al does is smell and cry…

It’s gotten cold and dark, and James looks up from the paw prints and realizes that he can’t see the sun any more, or the castle! Da always says that if he’s lost to make sure he can see the castle and he will be okay. James spins around, his breathing getting faster. He can’t see the castle anywhere! And it’s getting cold… James hugs himself and looks around, trying to see past his blurring vision. “Da…” he calls softly, trying to be brave. Uncle Ron and Mum always talk about how brave Da is; he just has to be brave too. James sniffs, wipes his eyes and makes fists. He can be brave too! He starts walking, looking around, trying to see if anything looks familiar. 

Nothing looks familiar and James is getting tired. His legs hurt and his arms hurt from the little scratches the plants have given him. He pushes past some tall blue grass and finds a clearing. Yay! He can kinda see the sun from the centre of the clearing! James looks around and hugs himself. This place seems even colder than the rest of the forest. There, on the edge of the other side are pieces of what looks like spider webs. James doesn’t like spiders much… He takes a deep breath and tries not to start crying again, he has to be brave like his Da!

“Hullo.”

James jumps and turns around. There is a tall boy there on the side of the clearing! He is pale and sliver and wearing funny clothes. He has on a dark cloak that has badge on the side and a shiny “P” next to the badge (James knows it’s a “P” because he can write his full name, even though he’s only three). The tall boy has black hair like Da—well it looks like it would be black if the boy wasn’t all silvery and stuff. 

The boy tilts his head and crosses his arms. “Are you not going to say hello?”

James shakes his head. He wants to back up, but can’t seem to move. It’s so cold and he wants his Da! 

The tall boy bends his knees and looks at James in the eye. “And why is that?”

“Da says not to talk to strangers…” James answers softly. He’s scared, but at the same time wants to know why the boy is all silver… it would be cool to be silver too! James takes a step forward, arm outstretched. “Why are you silver?”

The boy looks down at himself and then back at James, a thin smile on his face. “I am silver because I’m your special friend. You look a little like Harry Potter, are you Harry?”

James looks at the boy, scrunching his face up. “I’m not _Harry_! Why do people call me Harry? I’m _James_! Daddy’s got a big _scar_ on his face but people still call me Harry! I don’t even have black hair like him! I’m not like the Al! _Everyone_ talks about how much the Albus Severus looks like Daddy, but all they say about me is I’m ‘gonna be trouble’... ” James emphasized his point by stomping on the last word.

(James will look back on this someday and wonder why Tom didn’t tell him to shut up, but then realizes that if he had, James would have run back and eventually found his father and that would have been the end of it.)

The boy looks shocked and his face gets dark before he laughs. “So you’re James Potter? How fitting…”

James nods and smiles. “James Sirius Potter, at your service!” James says and then clumsily salutes the silver boy. 

The boy tilts his head, smiling. “Oh? Well, you may call me Tom,” he says and reaches out a hand.

James takes Tom’s hand in his tiny one. “Yay! You are my special friend now Tom!” James says, laughing afterwards.

James sees Tom open his mouth to say something, but the sounds of hoofs reach them. A half-man half-horse (centaur! Da told him about them!) comes into the clearing and stops, spraying dirt all over James. “There you are! Your father has been searching for you. He has the teachers, and even Hagrid, looking everywhere for you. He asked us as well.”

James stares up at the centaur defiantly. “I was being brave like Da!” he says and crosses his arms. 

The centaur rolls his blue eyes and bends down to pick up James and put him on his back. “Why am I always the one with the Potter boys in my back? Can you hold on if I walk?”

James nods and looks around, Tom is gone. “Where’d Tom go?” he asks the centaur.

“Tom? There is no one here, little Potter,” the centaur says and looks at James oddly. He starts walking slowly out of the clearing, talking to James as he does. “This is not a good part of the forest. It has not been since your father was a student here. How did you get in this part of the forest?” 

James giggles and bounces. “I was finding where the dog came _from_ instead of where it was _going_! Smart right?”

“Wrong,” the centaur answers; one hand on James to keep him from falling off. “It was not smart to wander away from your father. Has he not told you playing in the forest is bad? That it has dangers?”

James stops bouncing and sighs. “Yeah, but I was so bored just standing there talking to the dirt-man!”

The centaur pauses for a second and then laughs, the happy sound echoing off the trees and calling the attention of the people on the other side of the trees. “That ‘dirt-man’ is Neville and is very important teacher and person. He helped your father defeat the Dark Lord ten years ago this month,” the centaur said before they came out of the forest. 

“James Sirius Potter!”

James tried to hide behind the centaur’s back, but his Da was on his way to them with his long legs and it’s no use.

“Oh? Middle name as well? I _did_ mention that you were in trouble…” the centaur says softly before his Da comes and picks him up off the centaur’s back. 

“Thank you so much for finding him, Firenze. Is he okay?” his Da says.

The centaur, Firenze, nods to his Da. “He looks fine, Harry. Though I’d keep an eye on that one,” he says and then canters back into the forest.

Da sets James down and shakes his head to dirt-man who stops. Da put his hand on James’ shoulders and looks at him, James looks at the ground. “You will never, _never_ do that again. Do you understand me?” he says and shakes James a bit on the last. “James, look at me!”

James looks up at his Da, his green eyes and scar and black hair. “I- I just wanted to be brave like you. If I was, you’d like me again, like the Al…”

His Da smiles and shakes his head. “James, I know you’re brave. And I do like you, just like I like Al. You’re my Jamie,” Da says and picks up James, hugging him, James hugs back. “My Jamie. That’s why you can’t go running away like that. You scared me, understand?” Da’s hands are playing with his hair. Hair that isn’t like Da’s, like the Al’s. The Al has hair like Da’s…

Da sets him down and takes James’ chin in his hands (he can’t seem to stop touching James) and tilts it up to look at him. “I love you James. You are my special boy, okay? Now, you know I’m going to have to tell mum…”

“No!” James shouts, scared. “Mum always has the worst time outs!”

Da makes that face the means he’s trying not to laugh and nods. “I know, I think she gets them from her mum. But I do have to tell her, you knew better then to run away.”

James hangs his head and kicks the dirt. “I know…”

Da picks him up again and starts walking towards the dirt-man. “Did you find anything interesting?”

James thinks of the way Tom said he would be James’ special friend and shakes his head. “Not really. A green fuzzy thing that hurt when I touched it. Look,” James says and hold out his hand for his Da to see the red mark the fuzzy thing left. 

\---

_James is four when Teddy leaves and Tom makes him hurt someone for the first time._

Teddy has practically lived at his house since he was a baby. So to James, Teddy is almost a brother. Except he’s only there on weekends. But Teddy’s going to Hogwarts now, and James is stuck with the Al and now (brand new) the Lily.

James is going to miss Teddy. A lot. Teddy does all sorts of things with James, even though James is only four and Teddy is eleven now. But he will be going to Hogwarts next week and James isn’t sure what to do about that. Mum has three kids now and so Teddy helps a lot. James sees him more than Da, since Da got “pro-mo-ted”. Teddy is the one that reads to James when it’s raining, changing his hair and face for each character. He’s the one that’s best with bedtime stories (even though he’s getting almost too big for them now). Teddy is the one that helps with the de-gnoming when Mum tells him to “go do something useful”. He taught James how to whistle and climb trees. 

Teddy is the oldest out of the grandkids and so tells them to stop picking on James when James goes off to play with Tom. Though teddy says he should have other friends than just Tom. He also stopped Dom and Fred and Louis from making fun of the glasses he had to get. Teddy made glasses cool when he showed James the glasses he has to wear to be able to read.

Teddy also explained to James why it’s not “the Al and the Lily” so he would stop getting in trouble. But James keeps forgetting…

James has learned that Tom doesn’t like other people and goes all invisible around them. But Tom really doesn’t like Teddy and is happy he’s going away. He tries to hide it from James, but James has caught him staring at Teddy too often not to know that Tom doesn’t like him. Tom keeps suggesting that James play with him more. 

The problem is James want to spend the last few days he has with Teddy, _with_ Teddy. Tom doesn’t seem to understand. He keeps asking James why he likes Teddy, why he spends time with the other kids. Tom tells him that he shouldn’t trust the others. He’s the one who reminds James that his Da and Mum are spending so much time with the Al and the Lily, that James doesn’t see them much at all. James spends more time with Grandmum Molly then with anyone else. But then so do all the cousins, James isn’t the only one who misses his parents. Grandmum Molly is in charge of the schooling of all the kids (except for Teddy because he is going to Hogwarts).

And after Teddy is gone, Tom is the one that tells him how to hurt Roxanne (he will look back on this later and realize it was Tom punishing him for liking Teddy). She had been making fun of Tom, saying that he wasn’t real and that James is weird because he talked to things not there. Roxanne, everyone calls her Annie, is five and thinks that she is better than James because Grandmum Molly has started teaching her things now. James is still stuck with the- with Al, and Rose, and Hugo and Lily. The babies. 

Annie looks at James out the window, she’s inside learning and he’s outside in the spelled play-pen. He can see her blue eyes and chocolaty skin and she scrunches up her face and blows raspberries at him. She looks at Grandmum Molly and then makes her fingers circles and puts them up to her face like glasses. James curls his hands into fists and stomps his feet. 

“Annie used to be your ally—your friend—against the babies and the bigger kids,” a cold voice whispers behind James. “And now she’s turned _traitor_ against you. She’s part of the big kids now.”

James turns and looks at Tom. He’s sitting on the ground behind James, looking at the window where Annie is. James can barely see him with the sun shining, he can see the grass through Tom better than he can see his friend. James bites his lip to keep from crying. Tom is right, just like always. Annie _has_ left him. Left him all alone with the stupid babies. James stomps his foot and crosses his arms. Well, if she doesn’t need him, then he doesn’t need her. “I don’t need her,” he says, pushing away the memories of the tricks they had pulled on the bigger kids.

“Yes, that’s right. You don’t. She’s made you hurt, leaving you alone,” Tom’s voice wraps around James. 

“Yes…” James repeats. 

“Do you want me to show you how to hurt her too?” Tom’s voice has gone quiet, even though no one else ever hears him. Tom is kneeling behind James as James looks at Annie. She is now paying attention to Grandmum Molly and has forgotten about James. “I can help you hurt her like she hurt you….” He whispers into James’ ear.

“Yeah…” James says softly. “Okay.”

Tom’s cold hands touch James’ shoulders and Tom’s cold breath tickles James’ ear so he wiggles a bit. “Stop moving,” Tom says, and James does so. Scared of what he hears in Tom’s voice. “Close your eyes and think. Think about what you want to do to Annie.”

James thinks furiously of the worst thing he could think of. He remembers when Victoire twisted his ear because he had gotten mud in her hair and focuses on that. He thinks about how much it hurt, the pinching and the twisting…

“Good. Think harder,” whispers the icy voice of Tom. “Imagine yourself doing it. _Hurt her_.”

James pictures himself twisting Annie’s ear until she cries out and then snaps open his eyes when he actually hears her cry. He looks through the window and sees his cousin holding her hand over her ear, tears falling down her face. Grandmum Molly is bending over her, mostly white hair hiding her expression. 

It’s like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on James. He pulls away from Tom’s grip and runs to the wall of the play-pen, hitting his hand on the invisible barrier. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Grandmum! I’m sorry! Tell Annie I’m sorry!” he cries, tears starting to fall down his cheeks. Now that he has space between him and Tom, James can’t understand why he’s done what he did. He doesn’t even know what he did. When he tries to think of it, it’s blurry and hard to think about.

Grandmum Molly has come outside and is looking at him, hands on her hips. “What are you talking about James? What are you sorry about? You were out here in the pen and Roxanne was in the kitchen. How could you have done anything?” 

“I don’t know! Tom made me do it! I think… I didn’t mean to!!” James cries, snuffling and rubbing his eyes to try and stop crying. 

“Well, you didn’t do anything,” Grandmum Molly says and pats James’ head. “Roxanne is just being bullied by the older children. Now go play with Al and Rose and the others. There’s a dear.”

James sniffs and turned away. He knows he has done something, and that Tom has been part of it. He gives the sliver boy a glare and then walks up to Al, vowing to try and play more with the others. He needs to have more friends in the family. Teddy said so.


	2. Chapter 2

_James is nine when he starts to fear Tom._

All his life James has heard his Uncle Ron and Uncle George talk about Slytherins and how they are “nasty snakes”. And so when James finds Tom talking to snakes one day, something clicks. He doesn’t mention it to Tom, or anyone else for that matter, but he asks to borrow Aunt Hermione’s big book about Hogwarts.

“What do you want with Hogwarts, A History, James? You won’t be going to Hogwarts for another two years,” she says, her eyebrow raised and voice hinting at suspicion. 

“Oh, Teddy mentioned something during Christmas and I wanted to know more about it,” he easily lies.

Aunt Hermione nods slowly and hands him the big book. “Be careful with it, okay, James?” she asks.

“Of course, Aunt Hermione,” James says.

The book tells him snakes are the symbol of Slytherin and even more things fall into place. Snakes are linked to Slytherin because Slytherin could talk to them… And Tom was talking to them. James is nine now, and the oldest of the Potters. He got his family into this mess by talking to Tom long ago, and he was going to get them out of it.

And so James waits. His Aunt Hermione is the smartest adult he knows, but she’s getting suspicious. And so James thinks it would be best if asked his next question to a kid. And that would mean Teddy. He knows the most out of all the grandkids. And so James writes Teddy a letter, making up a story about doing a little project for Grandmum’s school about Hogwarts. He asks Teddy if there are any known descendents of the four founders.

Teddy’s answer arrives the next day.

_James._

_I know you’re lying, and I don’t appreciate it. Grandmum Molly teaches us all the same thing, so I know this isn’t for her._

_And as far as I know, the descendents of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor are so mixed in with the rest of the Wizarding world, there is no way of knowing if anyone claiming to be them are telling the truth or not. As for Slytherin, Tom M. Riddle seems to be the last descendent and he disappeared back in the 1950’s._

_Whatever this is for, I hope you don’t get in too much trouble.  
Teddy _

Just to be safe, James memorized the letter and then tossed it into the fire before his father is due home. For days James thinks, trying to figure out his next move. Tom has noticed how withdrawn James has been and starts following him around all the time. And then the next week, he hears his mum call for him, her voice shaky.

Grandmum and Grandda are visiting Uncle Charlie in Romania and so all the kids are being moved from one house to the other on different days. Today everyone is at their house. All ten of them: Louis, Fred and Molly (who are all going to Hogwarts in September), Lucy, Roxanne, and himself, Al, Rose, Hugo and the youngest, Lily. James rushes into the kitchen to find his mum up against the stove, her face pale. “James, oh there’s a good boy,” she says in a voice he hasn’t heard in years. “P-please helps Hugo take the nice s-snake outside? You’re the man of the house, you can do that, right?”

James nods and walks over to Hugo, whose eyes are wide. James can tell he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong and is scared because his Aunt Ginny is scared. “It’s okay Hugo, mum’s just scared of snakes, that’s all.”

Hugo’s eyes get big and he holds the little snake in his hand closer to himself. “Weawy?” he askes.

James nods and remembers that Hugo is having trouble with his r’s and l’s. “Yes, really. But don’t try and trick her, you know she can be as mean as Grandmum Molly if she’s gotta. She’s the youngest, like Lily. She knows lotsa tricks herself. Think about it, she had Uncle George as a _big brother_ ,” James says as he puts an arm around Hugo and leads him out the door. 

Louis looks at them and relief spreads across his face. “James you found Hugo! I was just starting to get worried. What’s he got?”

Once he explains to Louis (who is in charge of watching the kids outside) and tells Hugo to not bring any more snakes inside, he goes back to his mother. James sits down in the kitchen and looks at her. “Mum…why are you scared of snakes?” he asks. She is slowly sipping a cup of tea, but James can see her hands are still shaking slightly. “And it’s not like Uncle Ron and Uncle George’s ‘I hate snakes because they remind me of Slytherins’. It’s… your hands start to shake, and you go all pale…

James remembers the first time he brought in a snake from outside. How his mum hadn’t reacted with the smile she normally did when he brought in bugs, toads, mice or lizards to show her. The colour had drained from her face and she had shakily called for his dad who had come running in. He took one look at her face and then saw the snake. He had taken the thing from James’ hand and had tossed it out in the garden.

Al, James and Lily had then been sat down and told to never, for _any_ reason bring snakes into the house. Their father said that if they found one, they were to call him or an adult, but not let their mum near it. If no adults were home except mum, then to take a stick and _get it out of the house_.

James blinks and looks at his mum, steadily ignoring Tom, who has been watching everything. He’s grinning is a really creepy way. “Mum?”

His mum takes a deep breath and pushes her red hair behind an ear. Red hair Lily has, hair that had made his dark hair auburn in the sun. Colour is coming back to her cheeks, but James vows to tell his father when he gets home. “I-I had a bad experience once. I had a…” she stops and takes a breath. “I trusted someone, and he destroyed that trust. Tom- There was a very, very large snake involved…” his mum says and finishes her tea. She turns to the sink and rinses out the cup. “Your father is probably the only person who can say his first year at Hogwarts was worse than mine.”

James isn’t sure if he is supposed to hear that last bit and so slowly slips out and heads to his room. Thoughts are spinning through his mind. His mother had let the name “Tom” slip. Now it could be because they all think he has an “imaginary friend” named Tom, but James doubted that. And then there is Teddy’s letter, the words repeat themselves in his head. _“As for Slytherin, Tom M. Riddle seems to be the last descendent and he disappeared back in the 1950’s.”_ Tom again. What his Tom the same Tom as his mum’s? The same one that disappeared over sixty years ago? 

His Tom can talk to snakes, and his mum’s Tom must have been able to as well. What else could make his brave mum so terrified of snakes? And Teddy’s Tom…Teddy’s Tom must have been able to talk to snakes. That Tom was a Slytherin. Not just sorted there, but actually a descendent of Slytherin. And talking to snakes isn’t that common; his Tom, his mum’s Tom and Teddy’s Tom… they must all be the same Tom. 

James feels stupid for not realizing it before, but his Tom must be a ghost. James groans and shakes his head. Not just any ghost, but a bad one. James thinks about the missing spots of time he has. He’s told Tom, but no one else. Afraid that one of the older kids would make fun of him, or his mum would worry or Teddy would think he was too much of a scared little kid to talk too. 

And so he’s only told Tom of the time where he woke up covered in mud and Lily’s pet pigmy-puffs were gone, only to be found next spring buried in the garden. Of the time when suddenly he was in the bathroom dumping all of Al’s books into the toilet when the last thing he remembered was eating breakfast. Or of the time he found locks of Dom’s pale red-gold hair stuck to his clothes and then found out someone had cut all of his older cousin’s hair off in the night. Only Tom knew that James has slowly feared he was going insane since he was four and had hurt Annie without touching her. 

And only Tom knew of the box in the back of the closet. A box that James was scared of opening. The last time he had there was a page out of Al’s favourite book (the ink all blurred and the page crumpled), and what looked like pigmy-puff fur. He didn’t want to know if there was any red-gold hair or snake skins or something else in it.

But there had been no point in tell Tom, because Tom had _already known_. Tom is the one doing it. He is the one causing the blackouts. 

A shiver goes down James’ spine and he looks up at Tom, who is sitting in the corner, arms crossed.

“Well, aren’t you the clever boy? Only took you five years to figure it out,” Tom says smirking. His cold eyes and handsome face seem to be the scariest thing in the world to James. Tom tilts his head and continues talking. “And you want to know the fantastic thing about it, James? You’ve hurt so many of your cousins and family that you have no one to turn to now. Your father’s stuck in the office constantly and you scare your mother. Oh, she was a delight when she was younger, all tears and _‘Tom, what am I going to do?’_ Too bad your father had to be noble and heroic and save her.” Tom sneers and walks up close to James, who is now very cold. He’s not sure if it’s because of how close Tom is or because he’s realizing just what he’s gotten himself into. “Even better than that? No one will believe you. Because they all think I’m dead. Great, powerful Harry Potter destroyed me in the Battle of Hogwarts _years ago_. They would have no idea what you’re talking about.”

James looks at Tom and realizes that his eyes are dead. Why he’s never seen this before now, James can’t understand. James hangs his head and hears the soft “Heh” of victory from Tom. Tom’s right. He _has_ done too many cruel things to this family in the past. But as he thinks of them, he realizes many (if not most) are because of Tom. His family doesn’t know that, and he can’t do anything to change what he’s done. The list is long and James covers his face in his hands as the list runs through his head. Hitting, punching, teasing when he knew it would hurt the others, getting angry enough to hurt others like Tom showed him, name calling, lying, hurting the gnomes and kneazles, torturing the little animals (thought he only knows about this from the dead bodies he wakes up around), putting out glass where he knows the cousins are going to be walking barefoot, getting mad enough to choke the smaller kids. 

The list goes on and gets worse, but James doesn’t want to think about it. Instead he wraps his arms around himself and tries not to cry. He got himself into this mess. It’s his fault, his fault. If he hadn’t wondered away from his father when they were at Hogwarts. If he had not talked to Tom. If he had told his father. If he had been smarter, better, braver, stronger… none of this would have happened. Now he’s put his family in danger. Tom is slowly taking over James. He’s not fool, he knows what the blackouts mean. He knows his body does things when he isn’t there to stop him. The look on his mother’s face when she was talking about her first year… Tom’s back, and now James will cause that look on her face again. It’s all James’ fault, he’ll have to be stronger, better. If he’s strong enough, then maybe Tom will go away.

But if Tom went away…the nearest target is Al. And while his younger brother is annoying at times…Al isn’t strong enough. No, Al likes his books, and his chess, and his art. No, Al isn’t strong enough. And neither is Hugo with is breathing problems, or Louis with how’s he’s Uncle Bill’s youngest and a bit spoiled. And Fred…no Fred my like to tease and play jokes, but he’s funny and doesn’t take any tormenting. He never has. And Tom knows it, no, Tom would never bother Fred. And that leaves the girls, Molly (who is always ready for a fight, more boy than girl, Molly is), and Lucy (who is far too concerned with obeying all the rules to let something like this happen without an adult knowing) who are sisters, but not alike at all. And then Roxanne who he’s hurt already, Rose and her obsession with animals, and Lily who is the youngest. No, James can’t let Tom have them. There is no idea what he might do to the girls.

And so while it’s his fault (his fault, his fault, always and forever his fault), he has to be strong. He can’t not be strong, but he can’t be too strong either. James has to be strong enough that he can hold off Tom, but weak enough that he doesn’t beat Tom. If it’s possible to even beat Tom. Both weak and strong until he can figure out a way to get rid of Tom. A way to keep his family safe. Australia is supposed to be fairly unpopulated…maybe Australia?

Maybe, maybe, maybe. The only thing James is sure of it that it’s his fault. And he can’t turn to Mum or Dad or anyone else. Tom was right, Mum is scared of him now and the cousins don’t like or trust him… His Da is out as well. Because Tom let it slip that his father had killed him. And his father has only killed one person, Voldemort, and so if Tom is Voldemort he will stop at nothing to get to his Da. And if he does… what would happen? All his life he has heard about his father saving the world. What would the loss of James’ life be when compared to his Da’s? He has to be both weak and strong. Two years and James will be in Hogwarts. But will that be better or worse? All the magic to feed on, will Tom be stronger? Or will the power of the teachers frighten him into caution?

The sun is setting, and the lights fade slowly from the room. He’s ignored the calls of his family and mother. When he doesn’t come down for dinner, his father comes and opens the door, surprising James out of his endless circle of thoughts and daymares. 

“Your mother firecalled me in the office,” his father says and steps into the room he no longer shares with Al. They stopped sharing when he (no, when Tom) would hurt him at night, and play tricks on Al to scare him and keep him up. “Neither she nor any of the kids have seen you since early afternoon. I’m a busy man, James. If I’m not here, I expect you to take care of the family. If this is some plea to get-” And then the great Harry Potter stops and reaches for his oldest son, slowly uncurling the fingers that have been digging into James’ arms for so long it hurts to move them. “James…” his father says softly. “James, what’s wrong?”

And James does his best not to cry, because Tom is standing behind his father with a look of such hate that the blood in James’ veins runs cold. He keeps his eyes fixed on Tom, whose eyes are fixed on his father, whose eyes are fixed on James. It’s a circle that must end, but James has no idea how. And so James does the only thing he can think of. 

Taking a deep breath, James turns to his father and says the most hateful thing he can. Because if his father isn’t close, then Tom can’t get to him. “No, I’m not okay. I’m tired of being always compared to you, always growing up in your shadow. I’m tired of not being able to go out in public for fear of reporters attacking me. I’m tired of our ridiculous family and the shame it’s brought on the Wizarding world. But even more, I’m sick of being James Sirius _Potter_.” 

Tom is looking at him strangely, as if trying to figure out why a bug is moving in a certain direction. Hopefully by the time the ghost-boy figures it out, it will be too late. Emotions flick across his father’s face before it becomes still and he drops James’ hands as if they were burning. He walks to the door and opens it. “Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, then you will stay here,” and then his father mutters and swishes his wand and the room shrinks. It is suddenly the size of a closet, with a slanted roof, spider webs in the corners and he is sitting on a rather small bed that’s crammed into the space. His Quidditch posters, books, papers, toys, and even big blankets are gone. “This is what it’s like to grow up without people who love and care about you. Until you change your mind, this is what you’re bedroom will be like. You will have no food that your mother, Ginny _Potter_ , makes and if I see you tonight, you better have a fantastic reason.” His father flicked his wand and a pot is squeezed into the corner. The door shuts, a locks slides and James Potter sits in what must have been the cupboard under the stars he’s heard about and listens to his father storm away from him.

***

_James is a first year and can almost feel Tom dancing. James on the other hand, feels like crying. Tom seems like he will be stronger than ever at Hogwarts._

The minute the train rounds the corner, James feels a heavy weight press on him. While he had never wanted to tell his father, there had always been the _possibility_ of going to him. His relationship with the man has been tense ever since that fateful spring day two years ago, but he was James’ father and if James had gone to him saying he was in trouble...well, perhaps his father might have been able to do something about it. They had briefly hugged, but it wasn’t a real one. Each of them had been stiff and James could tell it was something his father was doing to keep up appearances, for the others on the platform. 

But now... well now James is on his way to Hogwarts and had no one who can help. There is Neville, but he isn’t like his dad or anything. He isn’t an Auror. James is the eighth kid from the “post war generation” to go to Hogwarts (Louis is at Beauxbatons because the potions department is better there) and they are spread out across the houses, surprising everyone (especially Uncle George) when Roxanne had been sorted into Slytherin, the last house they needed to have a Weasley in each. Until James is Sorted in the evening, they have two in both Ravenclaw (Victoire and Lucy) and Hufflepuff (Dom and Molly), and one in both Gryffindor (Fred) and Slytherin. Teddy’s a Hufflepuff as well, but he just graduated and is now off travelling. 

James wants to be in Gryffindor so badly it hurts. He’s scared. Scared that the Sorting Hat will somehow see that Tom has a hold of him. In the last two years, he’s only had one more blackout. And that had been the day after he’d pushed his father away. He had woken up with blood and feathers on him and his father’s personal owl was missing a tail. James had quickly washed off the blood and hid the feathers, but his father had known it was him. He hadn’t been able to comfortably sit down for a week.

That had been the last one, since then, James seems to found a good balance between strength and weakness. Tom still hung around him, but the blackouts were gone. Instead of making Tom leave, it seemed to pull him in more. It intrigued him, made him want to ‘figure out’ James. That’s what Tom says at least. That he’ll soon figure out how to break James and then he will be Tom’s. “It’s only a matter of time.” 

Tom is sitting across from him, arms crossed. He’s watching the landscape outside change. James realized that it’s probably the first time in many, many years that Tom has seen the view from the Hogwarts Express. He wonders what Hogwarts will do to Tom. He’s been excited since they left the house this morning. Well, it’s more like his foot bobs whenever he’s sitting down, or his fingers tap on the pockets of his robes when he’s standing. For Tom though, it’s practically dancing.

James wants to cry. If Tom is excited to get to Hogwarts, James is absolutely terrified. Tom will probably be stronger than ever at Hogwarts, why else is he behaving like he is? James pulls the curtain down over the window on the door and pulls out a book from his trunk. None of his cousins will come and see him and he doesn’t want to push away any more possible friends then he has too. 

Just as he’s starting to get into the book, the compartment door slams open and Fred and Dom walk in. The slide the door shut behind them. 

“Hullo, Jamesy-poo,” Dom says and straightens his Hufflepuff tie. “So it’s time for you to join the big kids at Hogwarts?”

“About time,” Fred murmurs. “We’re here to talk to you.”

“Remember that shite you like to pull?” Dom asks, his arms are crossed in front of his chest.

“The teasing and pushing and hurting?” Fred continues and James wonders if this has been rehearsed. Fred waves his hand and James can see the ragged scar on the palm. “Leaving out glass?”

James swallows, he actually remembers that one, but still can’t figure out why he did it. He nods at Fred and Dom and they lean forward.

“Don’t think you can get away with that here,” Fred says and pokes him in the chest. “You’re the lowly first year now. Victoire’s a prefect and won’t hesitate to take points because you’re family.” 

“No one likes you James,” Dom continues. “So be quiet, don’t bother anyone and we just might acknowledge you at the end of the year.”

And then they were gone. 

Tom snorts and shakes his head. “Like they can stop us,” he says before looking out the window again. “You’re related to a Hufflepuff? How embarrassing...”

James opens his book and tries to ignore Tom and what his cousins had said. Tom had said ‘us’. Was he still thinking James was a willing person in this, or were James’ wants of no importance? How could Tom be stopped anyway? What would it take? 

James fiddles with his book and then realizes there is a huge library at Hogwarts. Aunt Hermione always says that was her favourite part of Hogwarts, the huge library. Maybe he could find something to help get rid of Tom in the library.

The rest of the time passes quickly as James alternates between reading and thinking about the possibilities of the library. And soon he’s getting off the train, with Tom trailing behind him. He gets in the little boats with the Hagrid and the rest of the first years and soon they are lining up to be Sorted. He listens to the hat singing about house loyalties and forgiveness before the list is brought out. The list is alphabetical and James listens to the beginning when “Boot, Alice” gets sorted into Ravenclaw and “Goyle, Gustav” was the first Hufflepuff, but then his mind starts to wander. He hasn’t seen Tom since they’d gotten into Hogwarts. James knows better than to think Tom has left him, but he wonders if he’s left because he knows the other ghosts are at the feast or some other sneaky reason. 

“Potter, James Sirius.”

James jerks out of his thoughts and inwardly grumbles at his father for naming him after people and not giving him his own name. James understands it and all, but it seems like so many people his age are named for others. The Great Hall has burst into whispers and James once again feels the anger at his last name. This time he isn’t sure if it was real or something Tom has convinced him of. He sits on the stool and has a glimpse of several redheads only pretending to look and then the hat slips over his head.

“Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not-”

“Not Slytherin, eh?” A voice asks in James’ head and he almost falls off the stool. “Why not? You could to well there...”

“Please, please. I don’t want to be in Slytherin. I’m a good kid, I just- Sometimes things happen... Just not Slytherin, _please_.”

“Just like your dad you are. He could have done well in Slytherin...”

“Wha-”

“But you said you’re sure. So it’d better be GRYFFINDOR!”

***

_James is fifteen when he starts to lose himself._

James blinks as the spring sun streams through the crack in his bed curtain. He rubs the sleep grit out of his eye as he sits up. The covers fall off him and it takes a moment for the dirt that is covering him to register in his sleepy brain. James looks at it, picking it up and rubbing it between his fingers. 

Dirt. _A lot_ of dirt. James closes his eyes and rests his head in his hands. He goes back and thinks about what he last remembers and thinks it _might_ be dinner last night, but it could have been dinner the night before. The way the sun is coming through his curtains it has to be mid-morning, which means it’s probably a weekend. Dinner last night, then. Tom rarely has him miss class or be late. That would result in detentions, which would mean less time to do whatever it is he does when he takes control of James’ body. He continues to stare at the dirt and starts to feel that sinking feeling in his stomach that he associates with Tom.

He hasn’t actually _seen_ Tom since the day last year he woke up and was in the Hospital Wing. When the last thing he remembered was sipping hot tea because he thought he might have had a cold coming on. And then suddenly he was in the Hospital Wing and Matron Chang was asking him why hadn’t he come to see her before he was so sick he passed out?

James had been shocked, but after a few hours of thought he had figured it out. Tom had been waiting until he had gotten sick to try and take control of James again. James had struggled and the result was one of his year-mates finding James passed out on the floor of the dormitory. The reason was that this time instead of risking James fighting him off, Tom had decided to take matters into his own hands. Tom now “lived” in James’ body. At first, James had fought him off, working hard to push Tom out of his body. 

It was a struggle and made James weaker than ever. Slowly James started to reserve his strength, “giving up”. Tom wasn’t strong enough to control James all the time, and James needed strength to do things during that time. So when Tom “slept” James would research and think and look for a way to destroy Tom. It was always in the dormitory, that way Tom wouldn’t know how much strength James had or that was still able to move his own body. 

Steadily though, Tom gained strength. He stayed awake more often and was more easily awoken if James did any kind of big movement or there was a loud noise down in the Gryffindor common room, except immediately after using a great amount of dark magic. When that happened, James has a guaranteed five hours to himself, unless he sleeps through it also. 

Early last year, the moment James had the strength, he had created a “room” within his mind. It was shielded and double shielded and hidden with Occlumency and impervious to Legilimency in every way James could think of. That is where he hides when Tom has control of his body. He watches all that he can, knowing that watching his body doing these horrible things isn’t really penitence for all that he has done to his family, but maybe it will keep him from whatever hell wizards go to. For some reason though, he still blacks out whenever Tom uses the Dark Arts. James thinks it might be because Tom is using James’ magic at the same time James is trying to and so the weaker person, James, gets knocked out.

James catalogues the days he can remember and thinks that Tom is performing more and more dark magic. James figures that he’s awake and aware of what is going one about seventy percent of the time. Checking on his vague link with Tom, James figures he has at least an hour (perhaps two if he’s lucky) before Tom has a chance of waking up. Whatever he had done during the night, it had to have been big, to have him this tired.

He looks down at the dirt again and wishes he knew what “he” had done again. There is dirt under his nails, and in his hair, and covering his hands and arms up to his elbows and all over his clothes (which he’s still wearing, he notices absentmindedly) and in his bed. This much dirt probably means it was something to do with the greenhouses. He’s still alive, so greenhouse three was probably still intact. James just hopes Professor Longbottom isn’t hurt. 

He sticks his head out of his closed curtains and sees that most of the boys in the dormitory are still asleep and realizes it’s not as late as he had originally thought. A look at his watch—which was still on his wrist, instead of on the table like it was supposed to be—tells him it’s a little past ten in the morning. He takes off the watch as he looks around the room. The other fifth years are going to start waking up soon and if he wants to get rid of the bedding and clothes without questions, he’s going to have to work quickly. 

Magic might wake Tom up early and so James pulls the blanket, sheets and pillowcase into the middle of the bed by hand and then picks up the bundle to unsteadily walk over to the laundry door and push the bundle down the tube. The tube sends dirty clothes, linens and other things to the house elves down below. How everything comes back to the right House and room, James has no idea. He then grabs a towel and strips, shoving his robes and clothes down the tube after the linens. Wrapping the towel around his hips he walks to the bathroom and softly calls out “Kreacher?” He’s heard of the house elf from his father and has heard from Al that if he’s desperate he calls for the elf to help. James has never done this, afraid to let Tom know the power he would have with the house elves at his disposal.

An elf pops into the room and looks around. “Yes?” his gruff voice echoes in the bathroom.

James runs his fingers through his hair as the elf looks at him. 

“You look familiar. Another Potter brat?” The elf says and James is a bit taken aback, he thought house elves were supposed to be polite.

“Yes, actually. And since my father owns you, you’d best do as I order,” James snaps and then tries not to let his mouth hang open. Those aren’t his words, instead sounding more like something Tom would say using James’ mouth.

Something flickers in the house elf’s eyes, almost like longing before he bows dramatically. “What can Kreacher do?”

“Put new linens on my bed and sweep the dirt from the floor. It’s the dormitory with a five on it,” James orders, fumbling to sound like he had moments before. It works, barely. Kreacher looks at him again then vanishes with a crack.

James turns on the water in the shower and waits for it to warm. As he does, he looks at the mirror. His brown hair isn’t as messy as Al’s or his father’s. And his eyes are muddy brown, not the startling green Al inherited from their father. He doesn’t have the red hair of his mother or Lil, it only shows up as its true auburn in the bright sun. He doesn’t look like anyone in the family really, but he has the stocky build of his uncle George. How had Kreacher known... James shakes his head. He looks normal in the mirror, but what if the mirror could show your soul? Could show the inner person and not the outer? 

What would his father say when he saw his son was not who he was pretending to be? That his James was steadily losing a battle for his soul? 

The warm air is creating steam that’s quickly hiding James’ refection from view and he finds it strangely fitting. The line between James and Tom was slowly blurring, just like the reflection. Why else would Tom’s words have come through James when James was in control?

_A losing battle..._ he thinks softly to himself.

James quickly steps into the shower and lets the water run into his face. Perhaps he can convince himself it’s just water and not tears causing his vision to blur.


	3. Chapter 3

_James is the same age as Tom and doesn’t know what to do; Fred is the only one who TomJames was wary of, and now he’s graduated._

As surprising as it is, James had no idea that TomJames was holding back. Well, this is what James has deduced. Fred graduated in the spring and is now well on his way to being important in the Department of Mysteries. That means that he’s no longer at Hogwarts and apparently TomJames had been wary of Fred, given that now he was hurting and scaring others on a much more regular basis. He’s stealthy, using the Invisibility Cloak, and Polyjuice Potion and Disillusionment charms so that neither the professors nor the students know who’s “haunting” the corridors at night. 

They don’t know who jinxed all the Quidditch balls to attack the players, or how the whole school got mildly poisoned (James was responsible for that one; TomJames had wanted to put enough to kill the small students, but James had been able to distract him so that he didn’t put enough of the poison into the food). When all the Muggle-born students had been kept awake by death threats echoing in their minds, the professors had rounded up the kids of the old Death Eaters not caring what house they were in. And when Dumbledore’s white tomb had been stained black, there were murmurs in the hallway, but nothing was ever done. James did that one as well; TomJames had wanted to crack open the tomb and do something to the body, but James had convinced him (acting almost like a conscious) that doing so would reveal too much about who was doing all this.

James’ body has scars from fighting off the house elves when TomJames decided to put poison in the food. Well, it is his body, but James is having a hard time remembering that. It’s been over two years since had control of his own body for any real length of time. Tom has been part of him for so long, and the line between them has blurred so much... TomJames has tapped into all the bad and evil desires James has ever had and rooted himself there. He is no longer just Tom; now he’s acting on some of James’ worst desires as well. TomJames went and cut all of Lily’s beautiful red hair off and James knows this is because deep down, he is envious she inherited Mother’s hair. And James has a sickening feeling TomJames is planning something to do with Al’s green eyes because of the way TomJames has been noticing the potions in his N.E.W.T. level potions class. This one is James’ fault as well. He’s always wished he looked more like one of his parents. His darkest thoughts are literally haunting him. The worst thing is James only has one idea how to stop it.

From his research, James had figured out that the best (and only) thing he can do is to die. If he dies then TomJames has no one to draw his strength from. He would have no one to be a parasite to. James has done the math; it took Tom ten years to gather the strength to attach himself to someone. James is certain he wasn’t the first person to wander into that glade. He was just in the wrong place at the worst possible time. If he’s able to tell his father, explain it all, then perhaps his father can get rid of him. Ten years, that would have to be enough time. 

That’s why James has been doing all the research. If he’s able to do most of the research then his father can do what he can’t. He’s paid attention to the stories. The only reason it took his father so long to destroy the Dark Lord was because he didn’t know where the Horcruxes were or how to destroy them. With all that kind of stuff out of the way, James prays that his father will be able to stop the ghost.

He’s done with the research, basically. Now he has to transfer it so it’s readable and in some semblance of an order. He has notes on ways to protect the house, on ghosts, on a Muggle thing called ‘exorcism’ and how it might be possible with magic. He has notes about how long it took TomJames to take control and so many other things.

The problem is time. It takes so long to transfer the notes into something readable and ordered. It takes James so much longer to write now. He only has a few hours at night to do this and his body wants to be asleep so it’s stiff and hard to wield. James’ isn’t used to controlling a body any more. Tom is so strong that he only sleeps when everyone else does, and holds onto control of the body except when he’s in a deep sleep. So doing things that would have normally taken a few hours now takes days through a combination of all these things. 

James may also be taking a little bit of extra time. He doesn’t want to die, and he’s looking for some other way to beat TomJames. In years a research, he’s never been able to figure out another way to make it work. Another way to take enough power from TomJames that he might be able to be destroyed. And so James takes his time transferring the notes and finding a spell that will only recognize his father’s power. He’s thought up a riddle that his father will understand, to unlock the spell, but he can’t cast it until sure everything is done.

It doesn’t help that it takes so much strength for James to control his body when TomJames is asleep that when he is done, James loses focus and doesn’t process anything TomJames is doing for a few hours. It’s quite annoying really-

And suddenly James is quickly and quietly putting away the papers, stuffing them into a folder and shoving them into the bottom of his trunk and getting back into bed. TomJames is waking up and James has to be safely tucked into his hidden room before TomJames is awake if he wants to survive. 

His last thought before he fades and TomJames wakes up is that he hasn’t quite figured out a way to kill himself yet... 

***

_James is an adult and would be taller than a living Tom now, but it doesn’t matter. James is so weak, and TomJames is so much stronger._

TomJames is planning on killing Al. 

TomJames never blinded Al, partly because he is an abysmal potion maker and partly because Al has a healthy suspicion of who he thinks is James. James isn’t quite sure if TomJames is planning on killing his younger brother, but he has a feeling whatever the other is planning, it has to do with hurting his father.

TomJames and his father had had a shouting match a week ago when TomJames had found his box of “trophies” disturbed. James had watched, trapped in his own body, as his father had a shouting match with his most powerful enemy. It would have been amusing to see “the great Harry Potter” treating the Dark Lord like an annoying teenager, if he hadn’t been so scared for his father’s life. Would his father expect an attack from his own son? Would he defend himself properly if TomJames attacked?

Fortunately, nothing happened. TomJames apparently didn’t want to tip his hand yet and so didn’t do anything outright to James’ father. James knows that TomJames wants to hurt his father, to utterly destroy him. Oh yes, after that, TomJames will reveal himself and kill Harry Potter, but not before he breaks him. 

James is sure the first thing that TomJames is going to do is to kill Al. Al is his father’s favourite. He tries to be a good parent and not have favourites, but everyone can see it in his eyes when he talks about Al. It will hurt his father to lose his favourite. It will hurt him even more when he realizes his first born did it. James is sure this is what TomJames is going to do. He’s going to kill Al and make sure people know that James did it. Because then Harry Potter is a failure as a father and as a family man. TomJames has learned from his mistakes and knows that family and love and friends are important to James’s father. And so TomJames will use that to hurt him.

James shudders to think what TomJames will do to Lily and so knows he has to act fast. He has to somehow kill himself before TomJames kills Al. An idea suddenly comes to James as TomJames brushes his hair out of his eyes. The window is open and James’ room is the attic (it had taken him close to a year, but he did eventually get out of the cupboard-like room his father had created) and a fall from this height just might do the trick. TomJames would have to be asleep though, to prevent him from performing a spell that would save “their” life. Panic is a great boost for magic, even if a wand is broken. Dying would have to wait then, but soon. James’ parents are leaving for the romantic overnight trip tomorrow and James thinks this is when TomJames will kill Al.

And so James waits. He pulls back from watching TomJames, conserving his strength. He’s noticed over the past few months that TomJames has to be especially tired for James to be able to control his own body, even when the other is in a deep sleep. It will take all his strength and magic to do what must be done. But he has to, for his family. He’s caused them so much pain already; he can’t let TomJames hurt them anymore.

It feels far too soon that TomJames is going to bed, thoughts of murder flying though his mind. James shivers and watches, waiting for deep sleep and TomJames’ hold to loosen just enough that James can pry his own body from him.

It takes more strength than James thought, but he’s in control now. James slowly moves his body around. It’s been so long. His body is stiff and it’s hard to remember just how big a step to make or how much weight to put down when he walks. He picks up his wand from the bedside table and walks over to where he’d hid the folder of papers and notes when he finished it that spring. It’s gone. James walks from the trunk to the desk to the bookshelf, trying to remember where he’d hidden it. “Oh!” he says softly and reaches under the bed. A purely childish place to hide something and therefore somewhere TomJames would never think of.

He writes the note and riddle and then signs it. Places it on the centre of his desk and closes his eyes. Visualising a protective barrier around the folder and his father touching it to make it go away, he waves his wand, mentally reciting the answers to the riddle. James is just bringing his wand down then the door is pushed open and Al quickly climbs the stairs. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing, clomping about at half past two in the morning?” Al demands in the loud whisper.

James brings a hand to his head in a silly hope that it will keep TomJames asleep. “Al- Albus _please_ be quiet,” he whispers. “I’ll explain if you just aren’t too loud.”

“Explain what?” Al asks his green eyes suspicious, but he does lower his voice. He crosses his arms and looks at James. “You look horrid.”

James smirks and takes a step toward Al, searching the link for how much longer he had before TomJames woke up. “I-I might have time to explain everything Albus. Maybe if I’m quick...” He could tell Al why he had been so cruel all these years, perhaps have a hug from his younger brother. For a brief moment, they could have a normal relationship.

Al takes a small step back and looks at James as if he’s sprouted another head. “What are you talking about? You sound mental. I just wanted to tell you to shut up since I’m trying to sleep.”

James nods. “That’s understandable,” James says and sighs. “Well, I won’t bother you any more, I can guarantee it,” James adds so softly he doesn’t think Al hears it.

“Alright then,” Al says and takes another step back. His foot lands on a piece of clothing and slips out from under him and he falls. James thinks he sees Al hit his head on his school trunk but can’t be certain. Al yelled as slipped. More of a surprised exclamation, but it was enough to startle TomJames and now he’s stirring. TomJames can't we in control around a weak or hurt Al. James knows what he has to do, he just wished he had more time...

James breaks his wand as he jerks his stiff body to the windowsill. Clasping both pieces in his hand he looks back at Al, who is clutching his head. 

“I’m sorry,” James says and jumps.


	4. Chapter 4

_Harry finds both bodies the next morning._

James is first, outside by the side of the house. Legs and arms in every direction, the sun showing the dark auburn of this hair as it covers the grass. Harry’s brain takes all this in as he runs to his oldest son’s side, a cracked “No!” forcing itself past the block in his throat. He falls to his knees and reaches for something to hold as tears start to fall down his face. Now he’ll never be able to repair the relationship between them, never have the father-son relationship he’d dreamed of. His oldest boy… like all those bodies over the years, taken too young and now he’s too late. Cedric, Fred, Colin…now his boy has joined those who will always be young. Harry blindly reaches for the nearest part of his James and finds a fist. He’s startled and looks down and sees the two pieces of James’ wand in a fist and moans. He has been in the Wizarding World long enough to know what this means. 

_Suicide._

The word swims through his mind in the early summer light, stirring up his emotions more than anything has in a long time. Fear, anger, sorrow, confusion, doubt… so many emotions swirling and growing stronger, threatening to gain control. He just sits, stewing, until his name is called by Ginny. “Harry?” she calls as she walks out of the kitchen. 

Ginny’s voice forces him back into the real world and Harry’s Auror training takes over. He envisions all his rising emotions being pushed into a trunk and then locked. Locked with only a key that Harry has. His emotions under control again and he waves his wand, a black tarp shoots out of it to cover James. Only an Auror will be able to look under it. He takes a deep breath and turns to back door.

“Go back inside, Ginevera,” he says sternly, using his Auror voice. He hears her gasp, but she stops and that’s what he wants her to do. “Go inside, I'll be there in a bit.” He watches her, knowing the sun is flashing off his glasses and making it impossible for her to see his eyes. He’s glad of that, he’s been told his eyes go dead when he goes into Auror mode, and that would scare her more. She takes another moment and then slowly goes back into the kitchen. 

Turning back to his James, Harry’s unable to see who the body is and he’s able to calm himself and glances up at the boy’s open window. He sees a slivery form and feels his blood rush. _Tom._ The form comes into focus and grins, sending a chill down Harry’s spine. That bloody misbegotten bastard! He’s the cause of all this! If only he hadn’t visited Neville with James that day…

Harry takes a deep breath, pushing the new emotions into the trunk. His mind is spinning with ideas and wondering if Hermione knows of “exorcising”, he seems to remember a movie from his childhood...

Ginny is looking at him strangely when he enters the kitchen and he shakes his head.

She “hrumphs” and blocks his path, making him stop. “Are you going to talk to me? What’s going on? What’s outside?”

Harry swallows past the lump in his throat and shakes his head. “No. Don’t go outside, Gin,” Harry says, voice curt. He sees the hurt in her eyes and takes a moment to put his hands on Ginny’s shoulders. “Trust me, okay?”

He watches as she steps back and looks at him. He knows she is taking in his straight back, clenched fists and the wrinkles between his eyes. The fight leaves her eyes as she recognizes his Auror mode and she bites her lip. “Your work’s followed you home, again, hasn’t it?” she quietly asks.

Harry shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. Ginny is strong, but he doesn’t know how far this has gone and doesn’t want to upset her before he can answer her questions. “Fire call Herm, okay? It’s a Saturday, she might not be at the office yet.”

Ginny nods and looks at Harry oddly, watching him. Harry knows she looking for clues as to what’s wrong, that’s why no one but a Ministry official can pull up the tarp and look beneath it. He starts up the stairs, wondering what he’s going to tell Al, he and Jamie weren’t that close-

_Albus_ , Harry thinks and races up the stairs, ignoring the complaints his knees shout at him (perhaps it is time to take a full-time desk job), and slams open the door to the boy’s room. Empty. The bed is a mess, but it was the same mess he had told Al to tidy the day before. It was clear his Albus hasn’t been in the room all night. He runs to the door that hides the stairs and climbs them two at a time, entering into James’ attic bedroom panting. The shouting match between himself and James a week ago suddenly makes sense as he stares at the pale body of his youngest son. All this thoughts and suspicions about Riddle and his James come rushing back, forgotten in the recent responsibility of the twenty-fifth anniversary of Voldemort’s defeat. 

“Al…” Harry softly says and he collapses to the ground, his breath hitching. The copper tang of blood clings to the breeze that comes through the open the window. The window James must have used… The spells on the window had long ago faded. All the children were old enough to not accidently fall out of the window, so he had not renewed them in ages…. The sound of footsteps beneath the boys’ attic bedroom reminds Harry that he still has one child left. One child this monster hasn’t touched…hopefully.

He takes one last look at the room and sees the silver of a ghost in the shadow, a chilling grin on its face. He’d be right about Tom all along. How much of this would have been avoided if he hadn’t let himself get distracted. Would he still have his sons alive?

Harry shakes his head and rushes down the stairs as fast as his protesting knees will let him, stopping in front of his Lily-Loo’s door. He knocks once and then opens the door, only to be greeted with a screamed “Dad!” and the flash of far too much skin for his (almost!) fifteen year old. “Sorry, love!” he shouts through a hastily shut door. “I was just checking on you. Glad you’re okay…”

The door opens and his little girl stands there in a long t-shirt. Her red hair is long and falls in waves down to the small of her back. It is her pride and joy. She has a strand of it wrapped around her finger and curious expression on her face. “If I’m okay? What’s going on, Dad?” Her brown eyes are big and Harry pulls her close, hugging her tightly. 

“Just…just go down stairs and sit with your mum, okay?” Harry says and pushes her gently towards the stairs. And watches as she slowly goes down the stairs, looking back at him every once in a while. When he hears Ginny and Lily talking, he turns around to go back up to the attic bedroom. 

The open window has insured that the room doesn’t smell of death, but now that he could look at the body without worrying about his Lily-Loo, he sees the pool of blood and wonders just what has happened. Al has scratches, and bruises all over his body. The bruises on his neck look like fingers, almost, and the scratches on his hands look like he and James had been fighting with fists instead of wands. Had Al walked in on James before he jumped? Is that why there seems to be little magical damage? Or had they started with magic and ended up with fists? Or the other way around perhaps?

Harry shakes his head. There is no way of finding out until someone more qualified examines the body. Harry doesn’t want to call anyone until he’s talked to Hermione about this. The wind from the window picks up the edges of the papers all over James desk and he glances at it. All the papers and books and quills on the desk are moving except for one stack in a folder in the centre of the desk. Nothing in the folder or the folder itself is moving. Scrawled across the top is the messy script of his oldest. 

_For Head Auror H. J. Potter only._  
To open, answer these three questions:   
The true names of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.   
The first owner of the Invisibility Cloak.   
The one book you should have read in school, but never needed to.  
I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong and weak enough. But I love you Da.   
-James Sirius Potter 

Harry picks up the folder and can feel the magic circling it. He looks around and even though he can’t see Tom, Harry knows he has to be there close. So he waves is wand and waits while the tarp settles over his Al and then makes his way down to the ground floor.

Hermione meets him on the first step, worry lining her face. “Harry? What’s the matter?” Harry is strongly reminded of Hermione back when they were in school and he and Ron were breaking a rule she didn’t agree with breaking. He oddly wants to laugh, cry and scream and knows that it’s the shock setting in. “Ginny said you found something in the garden and won’t let her see it. And then you ran upstairs, scared Lily and have yet to tell anyone what’s going on.”

Harry slips his wand into the wrist case and takes her into his study. He tries to explain as best as he can. He explains about James and how when he was three he was lost in the forbidden forest for a good quarter hour and came back…different. It took years for Harry to figure out what had gone wrong, why his James was so unlike the other children. Harry explains that about the day during the most recent winter break when Harry had been going through the children’s rooms, looking for something he’s forgotten now and found a box full of the ‘souvenirs’. They were just like those Dumbledore had found in young Tom Riddles’ room. The contents were few, but many reminded Harry of something so cruel James had done, that Harry wondered if he was really Harry’s child. A page torn from a book, the ink faded and blurred, the bright fur of what could only be pigmy-puffs, a few locks of red-blond hair that could only belong to one of Bill’s children, snake skins, a shard of blood-stained glass and one perfect tail feather of an owl. 

And yet, even in the face of all that evidence, Harry had dismissed the notion. This was his son, not Voldemort, there was a simple explanation. He slowly talked to all the children, and James’ teachers and the rest of the Weasley family and Harry started to believe that, somehow, Tom Riddle was taking control of James. James was doing the same things young Tom Riddle did in the orphanage. He didn’t hold court like Riddle had though, in fact he was quite reclusive for a Gryffindor. And then he’d forgotten about it in the rush and preparations of the 25th anniversary festival. 

He tells her that James had been steadily growing distant since he was nine years old. Before then, he had actively tortured the other cousins, but after one night that still echoed in Harry’s memory, James had pulled away from everyone. He became arrogant, rude and often downright mean. _To keep people at an arm’s length_ , Harry thought to himself. And then he tells Hermione about what lay under the tarp outside and the one in the attic. Her quickly changing expression, from shock, to anger, to fear, to sorrow and then briefly pity reminded Harry of all the emotions he had yet to feel. After long years, he had finally become able to separate himself from his feelings in dire situations.

Harry holds up the folder and shows it to Hermione after trying to explain. “This was on his desk. I don’t know what it is. I know the answer to the first and second, but the third question... Do you have any ideas?”

Hermione looked at the folder, one hand hovering over it as if she was afraid to touch it. “I don’t know Harry… _‘The one book you should have read in school, but never needed to.’_ What could that be? I don’t think it’s a school book. And not regular book, one reads those for pleasure. Never needed to…. Why wouldn’t you need to?” She sat down on a chair and continued to look at the note before snapping her fingers and grinning. “I’ve got it! It’s _Hogwarts, A History_! You never needed to read it, because _I_ had!”

Harry looks up at Hermione, eyes wide. “Smart boy. Well, I guess the next thing to do is to see what’s inside.”

“Oh, Harry, do be careful!” Hermione says, worry in her voice. “Ginny would fall apart if something happens to you as well.”

“I know, but I can feel James’ magic in this. I don’t think it will hurt me,” Harry says and nods, holding up the folder to his lips. “Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and James Potter. Ignotus Peverall. _Hogwarts, A History_.”

Nothing happened.

Harry looked from the folder to Hermione to back to the folder, confusion all over his face. He looked down at the note for a moment and then smiled before repeating his answers, with one small change. “Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and James Potter. Death. _Hogwarts, A History_.”

Hermione utters a soft “oh” before the spell around the folder fades and for the first time Harry is allowed to see what it contains. 

He opens it and sees that it is a stack of different kinds of paper. Mostly parchment but he sees a few sheets of the lined paper he used back before Hogwarts and the Wizarding world. Harry sets the folder on his desk and slowly starts to look through it all. “Hermione, come, look at this. I- I think it may be a way to get rid of Riddle. A way to protect the house, notes on ghosts…”

Hermione walks around the desk and starts looking at the bits of paper. “These are all the things I starting thinking about researching when you told me. And even a few I hadn’t immediately thought of,” she says and holds up the pieces of parchment. “But… I don’t know if this is a way to get rid of Riddle, or just research. I mean, if James had known how to get rid of him, do you think Riddle would have let him l- I mean would have let him give this to you? Why didn’t James do this himself?”

Harry looks at Hermione and accidently crumples a sheet of paper in his fist. “I _know_ , Hermione. I just- I have to hope okay? I have this feeling James died to give me this… I have to hope there is some reason.”

Hermione sets the things in her hands down and pulls Harry into a hug. “I know, Harry. I know. There is a reason. We’ll find it.” She pulls away and looks at him. His black hair is cut short, short hair being the only way he’s found that tames it slightly, and flecked with more grey then she’s realized. He has dark circles under his eyes and lines on his face around his mouth and between his eyebrows. Harry Potter is old and just lost both his sons in one fell swoop. “Come on, Harry. You need to tell Gin. You know how much she hates being left in the dark for long. Do- Do you want me to take Lily to my house and then come back?”

Harry looks at Hermione and then nods. “Yes, I think that might be best. Thanks. And if Ron wants to come back with you, that’s fine.” 

Hermione forces a smile and nods, going to open the door for him. “I think I’ll call the office and tell Kingsley to send out a team. That way all you have to worry about is Ginny,” she mentions as Harry puts everything back in the folder and puts it under his arm, following her out. He’s not going to let it out of his sight until Riddle is gone. He takes a deep breath, shuts his office door and goes to tell his wife that their two sons are dead.

He walks into the kitchen and sees Ginny and Lily sitting at the table. Ginny has a full cup of tea in front of her, but it’s untouched. Her eyes are glued to the doorway and emotions flicker too fast to see over her face when Harry and Hermione walk in. She stands up hurriedly, almost knocking the chair over. Lily looks up from Witch Weekly and Harry sees that’s she pale.

“Harry?”

“Dad?”

Lily is the second to get up, but the first to reach him. Flinging herself at him, she hugs him tight and buries her face in his chest. She’s crumpling James’ folder, but Harry can’t seem to make himself mention it. Something has held Ginny back. She stands and stares at him. She looks so like her mother that he flashes back to Christmas break fifth year before Hermione pulls him out of it. 

“Lily, you’re going to come with me to my house. I think Rose might be home,” she says and places a hand on Lily’s arm. Hermione’s mentions Rose, who Lily idolizes, in hopes of getting her to come more willingly. 

Harry pats Lily awkwardly. If he hugs her, he might lose control of his emotions. Instead he pulls her arms away from him and looks down at her. It’s not as far down as it used to be. “You have to go to Aunt Hermione’s place, okay. You’re safer there. I don’t want anything to happen to my Lily-Loo.”

“Daaad! Don’t call me that! I’m not a baby anymore!” She says a hint of whine in her voice.

Harry shakes his head and sighs. “No…I guess you aren’t anymore.”

Hermione takes Lily’s hand and moved toward the kitchen fireplace. “No, Hermione. Side along,” Harry says, his voice short and hard.

Hermione nods and pulls Lily close. “Hold tight,” she says and then there is a ‘pop!’ and they are gone.

Ginny goes up to Harry, one arm held to her chest, the other reaching for him. “No, Ginevera.”

She pauses and then the outstretched hand quickly turns into a fist and she looks at him, angry. “Tell me what’s going on Harry. Tell me now. You’ve scared poor Lily, and me. You ordered us both in the kitchen and now you’ve sent our youngest away. What’s going on?” Ginny’s voice is hard and after long years of marriage, Harry knows she is fighting emotions as well.

“Sit,” he says, but it comes out like an order. Ginny looks at him and he pushes out a “please” before she starts screaming. She takes a deep breath and sits, pushing out a chair for him with her foot. Harry shakes his head. “Can’t,” he says, placing James’ folder on the table, message down. Turning around, he walks towards the door, trying to gather his thoughts. He takes a deep breath and turns back around to face his wife. He has to do this, and not like an Auror…like a husband. Harry’s defence cracks as he tries to find a way to do this gently. “Okay…Gin, I don’t know how to do this. I never have. Not since the war, and I’ve never gotten better at it. They stopped sending me on these kinds of errands after what happened with the Creevey’s-”

Ginny sucks in a breath and Harry pauses. _Shit_. Of course she would have understood what he was rambling about when he mentioned the disastrous attempt to tell the Creevey family of their loss. He looks at her and her arms are crossed in front of her chest. Her fingers are digging into her upper arms as she takes a deep breath. He can see that she’s thinking about the tarp outside and his actions all morning. He can see it in her body when she figures it out. Her fingers flex, her shoulders tense and her breath hitches slightly. Ginny raises her head and looks him in the eye, whispering, “It’s both of them, isn’t it?”

Harry’s hands are fists as he slowly nods. His body is tense as he watches Ginny stifle as sob and force out instead, “How?”

Harry shakes his head and crosses his trembling arms. He wants to hold her so much. He wants to be her strength, to hold her up. His arms seem to ache without her, but if he goes to her, if he lets her emotions touch him, he will break. And he can’t break, not now. He has to be strong, for his family. He has to find out what happened. “I-I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with Tom.”

Ginny jerks at the name. Her red hair looks like flames as she pulls her head up quickly and looks at him. “Tom? James’ old imaginary friend or…” The unspoken question hangs in the air, like all the things they’ve never talked about. And Harry’s added another one to the list.

“It’s the same one. James’ Tom _is_ your Tom. Tom Riddle. I think James’ must have found him when he was lost in the Forbidden Forest when he was a babe. And Tom’s been here, feeding off him for years,” Harry finishes, shame at never telling her heating his face.

“How long have you known?” She demands, the words hitting him like slap. Her arms are still around her, but instead of holding her together, they now seem to be protecting her from him.

“Not too long. I wasn’t certain. And then I-”

“How. Long?” she pushes between clenched teeth. 

“A few months at-”

“ _Months_? You knew that my worst nightmare was here for a months and never told me? You let me live in- sleep in this house with that-that thing here? How could you do that? Why? I can’t believe you-”

And then Ginny stops, mid-sentence, and all the blood seems to drain out of her. The freckles that dot her skin stand out on her suddenly pale skin. She is looking over his shoulder, and Harry sees her fingers are pressed so tightly into her arms that he wonders if she would be able to unbend them. He doesn’t want to, but slowly turns around to see an almost transparent Tom Riddle. 

“Hello, Ginevera,” he says coolly and Harry hears a thump.

Turning back around, he sees that Ginny has fainted dead away. She is crumpled into a heap and Tom is laughing behind him. Training kicks in, years and years of being told to never turn his back move him before he’s conscious of it. Harry faces Tom, but backs up toward Ginny to lay a finger on her throat. She’s alive, thank Merlin. He stays crouched down, ignoring his knees. He has to protect Ginny. What if Tom wanted to try again now that James…

“Why are you here? You’re dead,” Harry asks, his voice more steady then he thought it could be. He refuses to let his eyes stray to the folder. If Tom hasn’t noticed it yet, Harry certainly isn’t going to give him any help.

Tom’s cold laugh sends shivers down Harry’s back, reminding him of cold underground chambers. “Come on, Potter. Haven’t you ever seen a ghost before?” 

Harry scrambles for something to say. He needs to keep Tom talking until Hermione and the Aurors come. “Of course I have. But I killed you… the horcruxes, I destroyed them all.”

Tom rolls his eyes and puts his hand nonchalantly in his pockets. “Yes, but that doesn’t stop one from becoming a ghost. All that’s required is a want to beat death. I you have to admit, grown up Potter, I did have that. You didn’t kill me. I was trapped between life and death, did you honestly believe I was going to stay there forever?”

Harry growls and shakes his head. It was so simple, why hadn’t Dumbledore warned him this might happen? He needs to keep Tom talking and so searches for something to say. “You’re a…boy. Why did you come back as a student?”

Tom looks down at his Prefects badge and then back to Harry. “This is how I always saw myself. I didn’t purposely change my appearance. It made this so hard in the end anyway. No one noticed a black haired young man, but everyone notices when your eyes are red and skin pale. It makes doing things unobtrusively extremely difficult.”

Harry looks at Tom and notices something. In his, now infrequent, nightmares Tom is more solid, not transparent at all, and yet Harry can see the doorway through Tom. “Why can I see through you? I couldn’t back in the chamber.”

Tom tilts his head and his smile falters. “I was linked directly to the life force of your little wife there. Now I’m not.”

Harry’s mind spun. So that meant Tom wasn’t as strong, as powerful. And he had defeated the boy then, it had been mostly luck, but still… All he had to do was keep Tom talking…

“Harry?”

“Oy, mate! Where are you?”

“Auror Potter?”

Harry can hear voices coming from outside. Hermione, Ron and the Aurors Hermione had called. If he wasn’t mistaken, one of them sounds like Dean’s son, Alexander. “Here! In the kitchen! In here!”

A rush of footsteps and Harry hears the four of them come in through the back door. “Harry? What happened?” Hermione asks.

Harry glances down at Ginny, moving a strand of her red hair off her face and then looks back up at Tom, his hand still resting on Ginny’s shoulder. “He did it. He called her and then she fainted dead away. She’s still breathing, but I don’t know if she’s hurt or not.”

“Who’re talking about?” Ron asks and Harry can hear his confusion. 

“Tom,” Harry barely manages to force the name past his clenched teeth. Tom is leaning against the doorframe, grinning. With Ron and the Aurors arrival the reality of the situation has slammed into him. Two of his children are dead, and the reason is right in front of him.

“Tom? Like Tom Ri-” Ron stops and Harry has a feeling Hermione has elbowed him. 

“Harry, I- I don’t see anyone,” Hermione says timidly.

“Mrs. Weasley… Um, you called us and-”

“Hush!” Hermione says sharply and then takes a breath. “There are two dead children today and you are here to help Auror Potter process the scene. Just…once he gets up… Harry darling, why don’t you stand up?”

Harry pushes away the anger that Hermione doesn’t see what’s standing in front of her. She hadn’t heard the voices behind the curtain in the Department of Mysteries either. She’s only ever believed what she could see and touch. “No. Hermione he’s standing right there, just looking at her. The expression on his face… he wants to hurt my Ginny… Why can’t you see him?!” Harry shouts the last bit, this temper getting the better of him. 

Harry hears whispering and then Hermione snapping “Of course he didn’t! He’s never hurt her in his-”

“Well there was that one time…” Ron says softly, but Harry can hear him.

“Ron!”

“Excuse me, Auror Weasley, but what time are you talking about? Any instance of spousal battery is take-”

“Oh, bollocks, it wasn’t anything like that! Harry’s magic just got out of control and Gin was in the way.”

There are scratches on a piece of paper and a “In the way? Are you sure?”, but Harry’s trying to force his emotions back in the trunk.

“Yes!” Ron says, sounding aggravated.

They are talking—thinking—that Harry had hurt Ginny. That he had been the one to knock her out. Not this-this vile snake. This thing that had been haunting, and hunting, him since he was a baby. No! It was not his fault! He hadn’t meant to hurt her then! It had been an accident and he had waited on Ginny until she had gotten fed up and had banished him outside in the rain… Harry can feel his control slipping and grasps it tightly. He needs to be in control, how could he help his family, his boys if he loses control?

“Are you sure that Mrs. Potter-”

“I DIDN’T HURT MY WIFE! THAT MURDERING BASTARD DID!” Harry shouts, his control finally breaking. He points to where Tom stands grinning. “Wipe that smug grin of your face you scum! You dare hurt my family? So many have already died for your ideals! I won’t let you get away with it anymore,” Harry presses the release on his wrist case and his wand flicks into his hand.

“Auror Potter! I think you should put down your wand.”

“Yes, Auror Potter. Slowly if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Harry! Calm down! You can’t help anyone like this!”

“Yes, Harry. Take a deep breath. You don’t want all that James did to go to waste, do you?”

Harry pauses for a second and Tom starts hissing. Parseltongue that he no longer understands coming from the ghost's mouth. He can feel Ginny trembling under his hand and hears a faint whimper. “No!” Harry screams at Tom and the untouched teacup shatters, reminding Harry of a vanishing glass in a zoo long ago. He sends spells and curses at Tom before he hears a “ _Stupefy_ ”. 

Harry feels a burst of rage at being stunned before it melts and he is blissfully empty of emotion as the floor rushes up to meet him.

~~~~~~~

_The day of the funerals is sunny, and it seems dishonourable in the face of Ada- no, Albus’ and...James’ murders._

Harry can’t help but think that it should have rained. England’s typical rain and clouds seems to be betraying his...sons by letting the sun shine on a day where he has to put his two eldest in the ground. They tell him his youngest son died of internal bleeding from a fight, but from what Harry’s been told it seems like murder. He and Ginny made the funeral very private. There will be a memorial in the evening, but at the moment, it is just them and Lily (and the Healer standing a discreet distance away). Teddy ( _godson_ he can hear Ginny explaining) would have come, but he can only get an international aeropl- no _Portkey_ that will get him here an hour before the evening memorial. No Weasley clan to overrun the ground. No friend, no family except the immediate one.

It was a hard decision to make, but an important one. When they had talked, Ginny had patiently pointed out how James wasn’t really friends with anyone and how awkward it would be to have so many people there mourning Albus, but very few there had cared much for James. It seemed unfair to Harry, but he understands. The rest of the family might be by that evening, Harry was sure Hermione was calmly explaining it to everyone. And it would be easier for Harry as well. So many people he was supposed to know, but didn’t.

Harry’s mind is mostly blank, simple thoughts being the only thoughts going through his head. He’s been told his sons were murdered less than a week ago. The funeral had been postponed because of the investigations, but Harry doesn’t know what happened. No one really does. Harry hadn’t been allowed to help, not that he knew what to do anyway. He’s been told that when he woke up in St. Mungo’s he’d been tied to the bed. The doctors say that he said Tom was been there, watching. Harry started the scream at the ghost, which then brought the Healers. Harry had demanded to know why he was tied down and they explained there was a chance he was a danger to himself and others. Harry had tried to point out that Tom was the dangerous one and had gotten so worked up that the Healers had been forced to stun him again.

Each time he woke after that, Tom had supposedly been standing there with his smirk. And Harry had alternately talked and raged at him and each time ended up being stunned to calm down. By the time anyone thought to give him Veritaserum to check what he was saying, the day had progressed and Harry’s words and vocabulary had became smaller and smaller. No one realized what that meant. By the time Ginny had dealt with the Aurors in her house, figured out a way to talk to Lily to explain some of what was going on and talked to the Auror department to explain that Harry neither hit or nor abused her, the damage had been done. 

Harry Potter was now mentally unhinged. Apparently being hit with that many stunners over a short period of time messed with the brain and erased (or locked away) all the memories that were linked to what the person had been thinking about right before they had been stunned. When Ginny Potter was told this she’d slapped the doctor. A shouted conversation about lack of responsibility, education, and the horrendous treatment of veterans of the Second War ensued. 

Harry stands off to the side, watching Ginny and Lily. They look so much alike in their black robes, red hair and tear stained faces. Harry knows they are mourning not only Albus and Ji-James, but him as well. He will never be who he was. He knows that. He has been told who he is- who he was, but Harry doesn’t remember any of it. The last thing Harry remembers is waking up to Aunt Petunia dyeing clothes in the kitchen grey. And now... now he’s almost forty-three years old and apparently a hero. He has no idea who this Tom is, that started all of this.

It’s way too much to take in, and so he pushes it away. Instead he tries to act ‘normal’. He suppresses the urge to jump when things suddenly appear, or burst into flame, or someone waves around a little stick and _magic_ happens. He tries to be a good husband, but has no idea how. He wants to hold her, thinks that he should, but the way she looks at him. Like he’s a ghost...

Harry sighs and looks out at the tombstones as he waits for the man to start talking. He sees what looks like a teenage boy a row over. He realizes that it must be a ghost and Harry wonders why he’s staring so intently at Ginny and Lily, and if it’s worth mentioning in the new world of so many strange things...

_-fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I divided the chapters well, let me know if you have a better way? Anyway, hope you like it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 Next Gen Dark Fest on LJ way back when. I've always rather liked this. It was originally posted in two parts, but I wanted to break it up into a few more chapters. It's complete, don't worry. Minor edits when posting here: 2016


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